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The Cat - A Poem



And just what is that?
Asleep on the mat
So fluffy and fat
It must be a cat!

With soft flowing fur
A him or a her?
Noisily it purrs
Then quickly it stirs

It stretches its claws
Like sharp tools of war
It crosses the floor
And heads out the door

Soon prowling the grass
This fluffy outcast
But moving quite fast
As bounders walk past

Out hunting for shrews
And mice and rats too
Anything that moves
It gets one or two

It scratches a flea
Beneath an oak tree
Then looks up to see
It's bird pie for tea!

The birds do not stay
They all fly away
They won't be its prey
No bird pie today

It strolls down a lane
Now hungry again
As it starts to rain
Its home calls its name

Back at the homestead
A lass rests in bed
It claws at her head
And cries to be fed

Lass opens the door
A well-stocked food store
The cat licks its paw
It's hungry no more

And so that is that!
It's back to the mat
And there it's now sat
All hail the cat!